“Bad news… and worse news: which do you want first?” It was a remark meant purely to provoke—the kind of insult that could justify a duel if the other side demanded one. Veiga fully intended it that way, as he wanted to see Keter irritated, or even dejected. But Keter’s reaction was entirely unexpected. “If I hear the worse news first, then the bad news ends up sounding like good news. So I’ll just take the bad news first.” Keter sounded like he was excited for the bad news, like a child eager to open a gift. Veiga’s face twisted. Are all the people of Sefira insane? There was no fun in teasing Keter; he was unlike any other noble Veiga had dealt with. Plenty of nobles pretended to stay calm, like Hissop, but it was always just an act. Their anger was plain to see behind their composure. However, Keter was different. He twisted words laced with malice into something palatable, taking them however he pleased. But, Keter, can you really stay that calm after hearing this one? The bad news Veiga had prepared was special. It was chilling enough that even he himself, as the messenger, felt uneasy. Originally, he had intended to scare him first for dramatic effect, but with Keter reacting so unexpectedly, he went straight to the point. “The bad news is that the third son of the Browning Duchy, the master family of the north, will be attending your party.” That reputation was owed in part to the harsh environment of the north: the temperature stayed below freezing all year, and snow piled up to the chest in a single fall. On top of that, the north was closest to the Demon Capital. The Browning Duchy stood as its foremost frontline, and the territory was also connected by land routes to other kingdoms, making it a key military stronghold. They were the shield at the kingdom’s most vulnerable point, so they had to be powerful. The current duke was said to be the strongest in the family’s history, personally granted the title of archduke by Lillian herself. As the apple did not fall far from the tree, his children were all born with rare strength and extraordinary talent. The eldest son, Colt, was famed for perceiving the ideal path a sword should follow; the second son, Benelli, wielded unpredictable magic swordsmanship using mana instead of aura; and the third son, Vector Browning—the one attending Sefira’s party—was known as the swordsman that used the Four-Sword Style. To Keter, they were just names he had never heard before. Veiga seriously wondered for a moment if Keter was mocking him, but the look on Keter’s face told him otherwise: Keter was sincerely curious. “I know the Browning Duchy. They make those ridiculously good elixirs, right? But aside from that, I don’t care.” “…Unbelievable. I can’t believe I have to explain who Vector Browning is. Even foreigners know better than you.” Reluctantly, Veiga laid it out. “Vector Browning, the third son of the Duke. His nickname is Step Slayer, but he’s better known as Vector of the Four-Sword Style.” “Four-Sword Style? What, he carries four swords at once?” Humans had two arms, so they could carry two swords at most. Keter knew that some idiots tried holding one in their mouths to make a three-sword style, but that only made Keter laugh and wonder where the fourth sword would have to be “equipped.” Veiga smirked. “Heh. Find out for yourself how he wields them. What matters is why he’s coming to your party. You don’t actually believe he’s here just to enjoy himself, do you?” “So he’s here to pick a fight.” “Exactly. You defeated some of the south’s finest knights. Whether it’s out of pride or reputation, refusing a challenge would damage your honor. Vector knows that, and that’s why he’s coming.” Chapters fırst released on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩~𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢~𝔫𝔢𝔱 “You keep trying to make this Vector sound terrifying, but… I’m just not feeling it.” Keter had faced plenty of so-called prodigies during the Sword of the South Tournament. The mercenary Burgundy tried to scare him by claiming that, for the first time in the tournament’s history, three Masters would be competing: Rajis, Pashian, and Henya. They were all the strongest among the younger knights, but that was from Burgundy’s perspective. Though all three had incredible physical skills and talent, they were still green to Keter. They were hardly enough to excite him. Keter had already gone through the cycle of expectation and disappointment enough times that now he instinctively began with doubt of whether they were truly powerful or not. Veiga found it absurd, but still wanted to see Keter surprised, so he came up with a fitting comparison. “You remember Rajis, the Sword Dragon that was neck and neck with you? Vector fought him ten times and only lost once. With each victory, he needed fewer strikes. In the tenth duel, he defeated Rajis in only two blows. Do you understand now? Vector is a master of adaptation. He may lose the first match, but he never loses the second—not just against Rajis but anyone.” Keter’s eyes gleamed with interest at that phrase. “So if he fought one of the Four Lords, he would only lose once and win the rest?” “…Be serious. Comparing him to the Four Lords is too much.” Keter’s face fell in disappointment, before perking up again. “Then what about a seven-star Prime?” “You really don’t know when to stop. The gap between five and six-star is already said to be like the ground and sky; between six and seven-star is more like a worm and a human.” “Then if he can’t even beat a seven-star, what kind of ‘master of adaptation’ is he?” “It’s doable against a six-star Grandmaster, so more than enough to defeat you.” Veiga raised his eyebrows, trying to taunt Keter, but he just yawned. What a boring guy. Ha… It’ll be faster for me to go find the real monsters rather than wait for them to show up. It would be convenient if strong opponents came to him on their own, but that had never gone his way. The Browning family, renowned as the strongest family in the Lillian Kingdom, the Four-sword style, the Step Slayer, the master of adaptation… To Keter, it all sounded like nothing but bluster. He won multiple duels with Rajis? Even if you win one hundred duels against Rajis, Rajis will win in real-life battles. Keter didn’t particularly like Rajis, but to him, Rajis was simple yet precise, and he knew how to strike unexpectedly. That type of warrior never revealed all of his strength. There was a saying that a true warrior only showed seventy percent of his ability and reserved the other thirty for real battle. But to Keter, Rajis was the opposite in the tournament: what he showed was only thirty, and what he hid was seventy. If he had gone all out, he would’ve been even more entertaining than that slime bastard. Keter was just disappointed, since Rajis didn’t seem like the type to reveal his full power unless he was on the verge of death. “Enough about this Vector guy. Tell me the worse news now, not that I’m expecting much.” “You must be the most confident person in the world. But what if I said… the princess herself will be attending?” The princess of this kingdom could only mean one thing: she was the daughter of Queen Lillian. There was no way the daughter of a divine being like Lillian was an ordinary human. Keter’s eyes widened, hearing that the princess was coming. “Lillian’s daughter is coming?” “I know it’s just the two of us here, but you’re probably the only one in the world who would call a princess like some girl next door.” “This is actually exciting. The princess herself is coming.” Keter’s delighted reaction was unexpected, leaving Veiga dumbfounded. Vector reacted the same way. Why are they pleased? The princess of the Lillian Kingdom was Iris, known as the Masked Princess. True to her title, she always wore a mask that covered her entire face. It wasn’t because she was timid, introverted, scarred, or ugly. Her mother, Lillian, possessed a charming power that captivated all things, and Iris inherited an even stronger charm. It was so powerful she could not control it herself, and the mask was the only way to restrain it. Her charm was not limited to humans alone. It extended to other races, inanimate objects, and even energy itself—both aura and mana could fall under her beauty. More than that, once caught in Her Charm, one would stake their entire life to live only for her. Even if she could not be seen, even separated by thousands of kilometers, one’s mind would become filled with thoughts of her. If one could not see her within a certain time, they would go mad. A princess like that attending a party… Of course, Sefira’s prestige would soar. But she’s terrifying. Too many have lost their minds just from seeing her face. Even I hate being near her… Veiga wondered how beautiful she must be to enthrall someone for life with a single glance. The curiosity was there, but he had no intention of staking his life on it. A life of obsessive devotion to one woman was not his creed. “Keter, don’t tell me you don’t even know about Princess Iris. That’s the only reason you can stay so calm.” Veiga thought he would have to explain again, but Keter shook his head. “I know about Iris: the so-called Masked Princess. I also know about her power to charm everything.” “Then it makes even less sense. How can you still be so relaxed knowing that?” Dying could be noble: dying for one’s country, one’s family, or for love. But there were also meaningless deaths, and no one wanted to die this way. And worse than such a death was living forever as someone’s puppet, even losing the freedom to die. That was the fate of those who succumbed to the princess’ Charm, but Keter was calling it fun. Calling him a lunatic was a compliment. This guy is beyond madness. Veiga could not comprehend Keter’s thoughts. There was no way he could, as Keter was already thinking that he could use the princess in his plan to kill Lillian. If Iris is coming to this party to use me somehow, I’ll turn it against her. Keter truly believed the tales. Her Charm wasn’t something only lust-driven fools fell for; even priests who had remained celibate for fifty years succumbed to it, as did men who had been with thousands of women. This was because it worked by stimulating instinct rather than through magic or incantation. Stimulating the instinct was like stimulating the soul; without defenses for the soul, anyone could be caught. Keter was confident in his ability to face Iris, both as someone who had once fallen victim to Her Charm and as someone who had experienced resisting it before. I suffered enough under Inara, the nine-tailed fox, to grow resistant. Though Keter had been born with some natural resistance to Charm, he had once fallen helplessly under the Charm of the Nine-Tailed Fox Tribe without any resistance. But after enduring it dozens, even hundreds of times, he gradually adapted and finally learned to resist. He remembered what Inara had once told him. Keter, her Charm isn’t something you resist or adapt to. You’re just special. But even so, he had no intention of submitting to the princess’ Charm. The Nine-Tailed Fox Tribe’s Charm was strong, but Iris is the daughter of a divine being. Hers could be even greater or different altogether. He needed another way to resist and also within a month. And I know exactly where to find it. The bad news and worse news Veiga had brought were wrong: it was bad news and good news. If Veiga hadn’t told him about Iris, he would have been unprepared. Keter revised his plans. Originally, he meant to bring Dork to Sefira before the party, then leave immediately for training. Their plan was to find a truly powerful warrior, defeat him, and break through the limit to become a Master. But with Iris attending now, he added one more task. I’ll recover the treasured gear on the way. Not only did he add to his plans the retrieval of treasured gear that could help him resist Iris’ Charm, but he also slipped in the task of sweeping up any other worthwhile gear in the area along the way. “So, that’s your bad news and worse news?” Keter asked. Keter pressed Veiga to see if there was more, but Veiga shook his head. “You’ve made all my bad news worthless. Yeah, that’s it.” Keter waved him away, impatient. Veiga could only scoff at his attitude. “Never in my life have I been treated this poorly.” It was yet another first experience for Veiga in Sefira.